Page 12 of Assassin's Heart
The computer beeped, a small box popping up on screen. Eli elbowed me out of the way.
“The guy with the fancy pants has an arrest record in DC.” He typed furiously, the screen changing too fast for me to track as multiple programs ran. “Seems there are rumors he has ties to the Fiori family up there.”
“The mob?” Levi asked.
“Yep.”
I swore under my breath. What the fuck could the mob want with a woman like Leah?
You don’t really know what kind of woman she is, do you?
Yes, I had followed her, searched for public records, that kind of thing, but I hadn’t gone too deep. Deep meant finding out about her life with another man. I might be a glutton for punishment, but I wasn’t sure I could handle picturing her happy with someone, lying beneath someone, delivering her child while another man held her hand.
Levi’s gaze burned into me. I caught myself before I could squirm in my seat like an untried teen.
“What the hell is she into?” he asked.
I forced myself to meet his eyes. I’d brought Leah into our lives—this time—and I was responsible for whatever came with her.
“I don’t know, but I’ll find out.”
Levi’s look promised he would if I didn’t. I couldn’t blame him. A small nod was all I could manage.
A sharp whistle drew our attention back to Eli.
“Blondie has an interesting story.”
“Yeah?” I leaned in. “Tell me.”
“He’s a cop.”
“A cop and a mob enforcer working together?” Levi asked.
“To kidnap a child?” I added.
“And not just any cop.” Eli brought up a news story from a local DC newspaper. The headline, SERVICE RUNS IN THE FAMILY, was dated ten years ago. The cop, Ross Windon, had received a commendation for his work on a national drug task force.
And pictured right at the top was Windon and an older man, also in uniform, surrounded by officials.
Shit.
Levi reached past me to point at the background where a young teen stood, clapping and smiling. A teen with rich blonde hair and a smile that hadn’t changed much in a decade.
Pictured left to right: Ross Windon, Police Commissioner Ross Windon Sr., and Leah Windon at awards ceremony.
The caption hit me like a gun butt to the head. “That’s not her name.”
It was stupid, I know. Names changed. Maybe Leah and Brooke’s father had married. Except there was no public record of either a marriage or a name change.
“Unfortunately,” Eli said, clicking through more screens, “it was. I don’t know how or why, but it was.”
“How are they related?” Levi asked. The dark undertone of his voice made my skin crawl because the threat was directed toward the woman I loved. Or thought I loved. Except I didn’t really know her, and she was a threat to our family. A threat I’d invited in.
“He’s her brother.”
We’re not supposed to show weakness, but I closed my eyes for the briefest moment. She’d cried after the call, but not since. She’d been oddly calm, actually.
Because she knew her brother had Brooke? Because she thought her daughter was physically safe?
